Life feels like a trap. Therapy feels like a trap. The time between sessions feels like I'm trapped.
Is it supposed to take so long between sessions? Am I supposed to learn to live? I can't.
It feels more like being torn apart more and more. There is nothing left of me, but it's okay. What I've lost is not coming back. Sometimes it hurts to lie, but what else can I do. Should I wait until therapy is over, until I am "free"? Or will I manage to weasel my way out of therapy before? Why can't I manage to just end therapy? I'm afraid of what comes afterwards. It's death, and I'm scared of dying. Sometimes I think therapy is the only thing keeping me existent. It's going to end next year.
The time between sessions is the worst, but during sessions I'm not really there, I'm not myself, I'm nowhere.
Even though I have SN now, I still think about trains. Everything is a mess. It's a one-way street. I live a double life. It's so bizarre sometimes that I want to laugh if I could.